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by Hillmanator, Katie_MichelleAMLFTL



Series: How Uncle Stiles saved the world. [1]
Category: Supernatural, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anxiety, Character Death, Dark Stiles, Dead Inside, Death, Demon Stiles Stilinski, Demonic Possession, Depression, Emotional Manipulation, Everyone is Dead, Feels, Hallucinations, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt Stiles, Lucifer Being a Dick, Lucifer returns, Mark of Cain, Mind Games, Mind Manipulation, New vessel, Pack Feels, Panic Attacks, Protective Sam Winchester, Scott is a Bad Friend, Scott is a Failwolf, Stiles-centric, Superwolf, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Unexpected child, Winchester Feels, im sorry, not particularly scott frirndly, smite me oh mighty smiter, smiting, this is gonna hurt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-07 22:52:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7732921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hillmanator/pseuds/Hillmanator, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katie_MichelleAMLFTL/pseuds/Katie_MichelleAMLFTL
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Stiles starts to lose himself, who can save him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The beginning of the end.

**Author's Note:**

> Mine and my brothers late night conversation now turned series. We should not be left alone........

 

A middle aged woman enters a lounge, dodging a small child running through the doorway, smiling at the people gathered surrounded by holiday decorations.

 

"It's nearly time for bed kids, Santa's coming." Yells the elder man sitting in the arm chair, with a beer in hand, he turns and whispers to the woman next to him snickering, even after she turns and clips him over the back of his head.

 

“Mummy, mummy.” A little girl with brown hair, wide eyes and a single mole just under her left eye, pulled on the woman’s pant leg insistently. The woman looked down her daughter and asked her what she wanted.

 

“Tell us a story.” The words gathered the attention of the other children, spread throughout the room.

 

“Okay,” She said, sitting down on the sofa next to her husband. “What story do you want.” A sudden burst of small voices sounded as the children all offered up their pick, talking over one another, until the woman held up her hand and quiet fell. Her daughter looked up at her and spoke.

 

“Mummy, tell us how Uncle Stiles saved the world.”

 

 

....................................................................................................................................................................................................................

 

 

Everything was quiet the day hell came to Beacon hills.

 

Unlike every other day that had passed in the town, since werewolves, druids and freaking magic trees had become the norm. Unlike yesterday.

 

The rain had stopped some time ago, but Stiles couldn’t say when, his clothes were still slightly damp as he sat on the cold tarmac leaning against the front wheel of his jeep. The wrench still led on the hood of his car in his earlier anger, the bright light of daybreak appearing over the horizon. His fingers tapping non sequentially against the ground next to his phone, which he had just used to ring Malia for a lift, whiskey, brown eyes flickering back and forth from his hands to the sky in despair.

 

“Tough day kid?” Stiles looked up, the sun catching his eyes as he tried to take in the figure before him. He was tall, blonde hair and a rugged face, he looked like he hadn’t shaved in a few days, his grey shirt over green top, slightly crumpled. He was smiling, creating creases around his eyes. “Me too.” Stiles looked back down as he snorted in amusement.

 

 _Sure, sure this random guy had had a worse day than he had._  

 

“What, you don’t believe me? I just got dragged through hell.” There was something in the guy’s tone of voice, he had spoken in a joking manner, but for some reason it sounded like he was telling the truth.

 

_Okay, stranger danger bells are ringing._

“Hey kid, don’t frown, someone could be falling in love with your smile.” The words hit Stiles like a tonne of bricks, remembering the phrase that Allison and Lydia would tell each other.

 

_Allison, another person no longer around because of how weak he was, another kid who would never see their parents again, because of the choices he had made._

He hung his head, his chest tightening slightly, he knew he had never really gotten over the guilt he had carried from his possession by the nogitsune, but ever since Donavon he couldn’t help thinking of it more.

 

“Don’t.” He whispered. “Don’t say that, just, just don’t say it.” The guy held his hands up as if in mock surrender.

 

“Alright kid, sorry, I meant nothing by it. Just wondering why your sitting here in the street at this time in the morning, isn’t anyone looking for you? Shouldn’t you be at home?”

 

_Was anyone looking for him, yeh, not so much. His dad was working crazy hours even before the dread doctors turned up with their whacked out science experiments. Now it was like they hardly saw each other, the only exception being when they were both trying to solve the case of missing teenagers and mysterious deaths. Not your usual father son bonding activity._

 

“They know that I’m here,” Well come on he wasn’t about to go and tell this random dude no one knew where he was and he didn’t have to be home, there are murderers on the loose after all.

 

“Oh, family issues is it?” He pauses for a moment as Stiles grimaces. “Oh I know all about them, my dad wasn’t exactly around you know, and my brother, well he is just the biggest dick going. He wanted to meet and set it all straight this one time, but then all our other siblings got involved and let’s just say, it was like we fell in this pit we couldn’t escape.” He had a faraway expression on his face and then turned to look at Stiles with a small grin. “Your turn.”

 

 

“Look, Dude that’s really none of your business-“He was pulled out of his train of thought when a car turned onto the road, Malia behind the wheel.

 

“Sorry kid, I just can’t help myself sometimes.”

 

“Yeh-“Stiles nodded absentmindedly as he got to his feet, the car slowing to a stop a few feet away, he turned back to the man, but the street appeared empty, in the corner of his eye he watched as the man walked into the next street, shrugging he turned back to Malia’s car.

 

_Time to face the music._


	2. Home sweet home.

The house was empty. Again. It always seemed to be empty these days and now that Scott had effectively abandoned him he doubted much would change. The quiet was deafening. He wasn't sure what to do with himself, after the non-stop of the last few weeks it was almost too much, knowing that the only thing he currently had to worry about were normal human issues. Fuck Scott, Fuck the supernatural. 

 

His head whipped up at the sound of a floorboard creaking overhead. 

 

"Dad? Is that you?" Stiles called up the stairs, another creak echoed through the house. "Dad?" The metal baseball bat sat at the side of the stairs, he looked down at it before picking it up and slowly heading upstairs. "I should really have a gun." He muttered to himself, the bat twisting in his hands. The metal slid slightly through the sweat coating his palms, after everything he had faced, freaking floorboards were making him more nervous than freaking werewolves, he really needed to sort out his priorities before he got killed _......or worse expelled._ Yeh, he really needed to sort them out, references at a time like this were not well advised

  

Footsteps. Stiles turned rapidly, but the corridor at the top of the stairs was as empty as when he had walked up. He turned around, leant against the wall and tried to calm him down. CREAK! There was someone in his room. Stealthily, Stiles crept down the corridor, and prepared himself, raising the bat to swing level.  _Is that what it's called? Swing level? Not important now Stiles, it can wait!_  He kicked open his door and swung the bat around, hoping to thwack whatever strange being was in his home. Crash!  _CRAP! That computer  cost dad a fortune!_

 

He looked in the mirror, but it wasn't him staring back. The deep, tired eyes, the darkness around them, compared to the silky paleness of his skin.  This wasn't Stiles. This was the Nogitsune. It stared straight at him.

 

 "We're going to destroy all of them Stiles!" Stiles swiped his hands, catching the mirror as it fell to the ground. He backed away and fell to the floor, scrambling in a backwards crawl until his back hit the doorway. Silence. The whole of the world stood still. His breath sounded too loud in the void, every intake was deafening, all his focus was lost in the sound of his breathing; he felt stupid, cowering on the floor in his own damned house. Slowly, Stiles began to crawl over to the were the pieces of the shattered mirror lay, but when he looked down, he saw nothing but himself.

 

 

The first time he heard the drip he thought nothing of it. The second time, Stiles looked around, but assumed it was just a leaky tap in the bathroom and so left it. The drip fell again. And again. And again. Each time the noise got louder in Stiles mind. Eventually, he couldn't take it. He got up and walked into the hallway, it was strange he couldn’t exactly pin point the source of the leak. He checked the bathroom and kitchen taps before returning back to the landing, the noise was louder here, leading him back towards his own bedroom. He nudged open the door, seeing nothing out of the ordinary, bar the smashed computer screen and mirror in pieces on the floor. _Dad is going to be pissed._

 

Stiles shook his head, feeling stupid, there was nothing there, his mind was obviously playing tricks on him, maybe this was how his mum felt, slowly unravelling and just sitting back watching the world fall apart, not able to make sense of any of it. Bending down he began picking up the biggest pieces of the glass, putting them in a pile so that they would be easier to get rid of.

 

“Agh.” A small bead of blood ran down the inside of his palm, it was only a tiny nick but it stung. Suddenly a bigger drop landed in his palm. At first he just watched it, until he remembered that blood shouldn’t have landed anywhere if it already originated from that place. Looking into a shard of the mirror he saw the drop of crimson in the corner of his eye. Following the flow down with his eyes, he saw it cover the planes of his face before falling to splatter over the floor. He must have wiped his face with the hand he cut, he reasoned even though he knew that he had never moved the appendage.

 

Another drop, this time from somewhere higher.

 

Stiles looked up, the ceiling had a growing red patch, it was bubbling and dripping through in dark red oozing bubbles. He ran to the hall, where the hatch to the attic was and opened it, yanking down the ladder, panting, _theirs blood, theirs blood, it’s blood,_ it was running through his mind over and over, _blood, blood, blood, who’s blood?_ Every step felt like it took forever, every step and he wanted to stop, to just climb back down and wake up, this couldn’t be real. At the top his hand shook as he pulled out his Phone, shakily tapping in the passcode and putting on the flashlight. There, lying on the ground, covered in her own blood, lay Claudia Stilinski, her eyes were looking emptily ahead.

 

“Mom?” His voice was quiet and shaky, breaking at the end. “Mom!” Scrambling forward, Stiles pulled himself up into the darkness.

 

“Mom, wake up.” He felt like he was 11 all over again, he was alone then, he was alone again now. He reached down, fingers reaching out to touch her cheek. The skin was cold and clammy, the blood on her skin was tacky.

 

Stiles threw himself back, vomiting up the breakfast he’d eaten that morning, heaving until they’re was nothing left. It was his mom, it couldn’t be, but it was, he’d seen her, he’d touched her. Turning back around he looked at the where his mum lay, but there was nothing there.

 

Hands flew over the floor where just a moment ago, his mum had been, she had been there he touched her. She was there, she had been right there.

 

“Mom, Mom,” He looked wildly around hands grabbing at the floor and pushing boxes in a mad scramble. “Mom come back!”

 

"He's trying to kill me."  The words echoed through the attic and through his mind.

"Skinny defenceless Stiles" " You Killed your mother and now your killing me." It was all too much, getting too loud, the voices creeping closer and closer, until they were practically screaming in his ear. Just as suddenly as they started they all stopped. That’s when he realised he was the one screaming.

 

"MOM?"

 


End file.
